XI.

 

 

ON EDGE. THAT WAS how I felt, as if I were on the edge of a great precipice, and at any moment the ledge would crumble beneath my feet.

Staring at myself in the polished bronze mirror, I adjusted my tunic yet again, as I already had a hundred times over. I had seen him. After all these years, I had seen him and now I was consumed with him, with thoughts of him, and I could not stop them flowing through my head unchecked. How was it he could still affect me so? My flesh prickled and stung, and everything was too loud, too bright. Four days had passed since I had seen him again and it was as though my body had come to life after so long asleep.

Why did I have to have seen him again?

Smoothing my hair, I gave up attempting to make myself presentable and left my chambers. I had not yet seen Aurelia this day and I was anxious for her presence.

The cool morning air soothed me as I walked through the halls of our domus, servants and slaves bowing as I passed. I acknowledged them with a slight incline of my head. I could not bring myself to ignore them as I knew others did, as my mother did.

The atrium became the study, the busts of my mother's family lining the room's walls. The busts could not retain my attention, not when I sought something other, and I strode into our roofless garden. The courtyard, bathed in the sunlight streaming from the open roof, housed tall, thin pines forming a square to replicate the columns supporting the structure encasing the courtyard. Green shrubs lined the small pond containing exotic fish my mother used to impress her guests. And the courtyard was empty.

Hurrying into the dining room, I scanned it. Empty. Walking back through the courtyard, the bust-lined study, I strode to the kitchen. The room housed naught but slave and servant.

Exiting, I stood in the atrium, my hands squeezed to fists.

Aurelia was nowhere to be found. I was not frantic, though. No, all I felt was calm. Calm. That was all. I refused to feel anything other than calm.

A servant passed me, carrying an urn of water or oil or some such thing, I cared not what. “You! Have you seen my daughter?”

The servant paused, his head bowed. “No, domina.”

“She must be somewhere,” I said, more to myself than him.

The servant said nothing, waiting for my next instruction, and shifted his burden.

What was I doing, holding this slave from his purpose? “My apologies. Please, continue with your duty.”

The servant nodded and left.

I barely noticed his absence. Calm. I was calm. Aurelia was well. Safe. She wandered only, as she sometimes did, possibly on an excursion to the stables to see Emperor. Any moment now, I would see her race through the entrance hall to ambush me in a flurry of skirt and chatter, clutching a half-finished pastry in her hand and one of her dolls in the other. I would not worry. She would soon return. I was calm and serene. I would not worry.

Just to be certain, though, I would check further.

The entrance hall opened onto the front courtyard. Early day though it was, or perhaps because of it, the courtyard bustled with activity, verging on the edge of chaos. Men unloaded delivery carts, shouldering their burdens with the ease of long practice and moving with one another in an intricate kind of dance. Cages constraining chickens and rabbits and other small animals added to the din, the rabbits darting about to rock their cages, the chickens squawking their displeasure. The shopkeeps who rented the front rooms of my mother's domus scurried between delivery carts, checking and organising and directing the wares delivered.

Amongst this, a small girl could easily go unnoticed, become lost, injured.

Pushing past an overly burly grocer, I searched for Aurelia. No flyaway black curls I sighted, no impish laughter I heard, no imperious commands sounded from the din. No Aurelia. I told myself again I was not frantic but no longer could I believe it. Panic filled me, such that I darted and weaved through the din, desperation making me rough.

Finally, finally, I spied my daughter and relief overwhelmed me. I wilted, grasping a cart for balance. Talking with her doll, making the stuffed arms move, she glanced to her side as if in conversation, most like with a labourer. She laughed, and I heard a deep voice laugh with her.

Anger burned my relief. How dare she? How dare she? She knew she should not and yet here she stood amongst these workmen, placing herself in the way of harm. I stormed through the courtyard, intent upon her, ready to lambaste her for her thoughtlessness, to chide the man with her.

I was a pace away, maybe two, when finally I saw to whom she spoke.

He was here. Him. The slave I used to teach.

My throat dried and I halted as if a barrier impeded my way. They were talking, he and my daughter, although she dominated the conversation. She talked of the bears, her small hands replicating the beasts’ movements with her doll. Crouching next to her, he kept a respectful distance though he made sure she knew she was afforded his full attention.

Sometimes, he used to do that for me.

Aurelia made a particularly vicious sweep with her doll, growling in what she most certain believed a menacing manner. An expression that was almost a smile stretched his mouth. Pain twisted in my breast at the sight. Something, maybe my small whimper, made him look up.

His almost-smile vanished.

My daughter chattered on, unaware of any tension, though now he only half-listened. Instead, his attention was on me, and his intense regard disturbed me.

Forcing courage, I squared my shoulders and stalked towards them. Aurelia fell silent as she noticed me, chagrin she had been caught where she should not be marching across her face. I noted her reaction, but for the moment he was all I saw.

He rose, his gaze never leaving mine. “Domina Aurelia was telling me of the dancing bears.”

My breath stopped. I had not heard his voice in so long. Then I made sense of his words and hysterical laughter pushed me. After all these years, still he was arrogant. He did not introduce himself, did not offer me greeting. Instead, he spoke as if we had never been apart.

Abruptly, anger burned. He had done this to me. He had caused this painful resurgence, had made me again feel. I raised my chin. “Is that how you address your betters?”

A flash of anger darkened his eyes though quickly it was stifled. “Forgive me, domina. I forget my place.”

Imperious, I nodded my pardon, this present charade all that kept me from breaking. Belatedly, I noticed the basket of produce at his feet.

“Why is a gladiator delivering fruit?” I put as much derision as I could into the words.

“I am gladiator no longer, domina.” He almost sneered the appellation. “Nor am I a slave.”

My heart stopped.

“I am a free man, able to earn what I want.” His gaze bore into mine.

“I see.” He was free. He was free and surely had found his love. They were together and he was happy.

I fought back ridiculous tears, refusing to shatter before him. Aurelia made a slight movement and, reminded of her presence, shame filled me. Curse him. Curse him to Pluto and the underworld, that he made me forget all else.

I shifted my focus from him to her, where it should have been all along. “Aurelia, you should not be here. Come.”

My daughter knew better than to protest, caught as she was in mischief. Meekly, she came to my side and I turned on my heel.

“Domina.”

The word was soft yet still I heard it. I turned.

A small smile played over his lips. “If I cannot earn what I want…” A hard edge entered his smile and I shuddered, feeling of a sudden as if prey. Noting my reaction, his smile widened. “I take it.”